


Wednesday Night

by theoofoof



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s07e18 Requiem, F/M, Missing Scene, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25092631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: My version of what happened that Wednesday night after the election, when CJ went to Danny’s apartment and they‘didn’t talk; not even a little’.
Relationships: Danny Concannon/C. J. Cregg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Wednesday Night

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read in between my other fics ['Flowers' ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408531) and ['What Else'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22910848), but can also be read as a standalone.
> 
> Also, thanks to [@motherbearof3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3) for giving this a read through for errors, even though she hasn't watched the show.

When he wasn’t out on the road chasing a story, Danny Concannon tended to be a creature of habit. Evenings that weren’t spent working, would often find the journalist at home on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table and his laptop on his knee. An old ball game on the TV providing the background noise as he whiled away the evening, nursing a glass of scotch and browsing the internet.

Tonight was no different. He was exploring the children’s section of Amazon.com, baffled – as ever – by the sheer variety of toys on sale these days. He was looking for appropriate Christmas gifts for his sister’s kids. He flicked back to the tab showing the ‘ _K’NEX Vertical Vengeance Coaster’_ and his cursor hovered over the ‘Add to Cart’ button. It was pricey, but he knew his nephew – who he didn’t see nearly enough of – would love it, and he could always add something pink and glittery to his niece’s gift to even up the value. He was about to click it when a sudden knock at his door shattered the tranquillity of his evening.

He glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen – 21:35 – and frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and it was too late for any deliveries. He shifted the laptop to the coffee table and stood - his knees clicking in protest – before padding in his socked feet to the door.

He peered through the peephole and his eyes widened. CJ stood on the other side, her hair damp from the rain, flanked by two secret service agents.

After hearing about Leo’s death while watching the election night coverage, Danny had placed an official condolence call to the White House and followed that up with a quick text to CJ telling her that he was there if she needed anything. She’d replied with a quick ‘thanks’ and he hadn’t heard anything else from her. He wasn’t surprised; she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to see him again until after the inauguration, wanting instead to focus on the final days of the administration. But here she was, on his doorstep at nine thirty on a Wednesday night.

Realising she’d been stood out there while he’d been lost in his thoughts, Danny scrambled to unfasten the deadbolt and flung the door open.

Their gazes met over shoulder the of one of the agents and he offered her a small smile.

“Hi.”

One of the agents spoke before CJ could get the chance, breaking the moment. “Good evening, sir. Is it alright if I take a quick look around?”

Danny gestured to the inside of the apartment. “Knock yourself out.”

“I’m sorry to just land like this,” CJ began as the agent entered, “but…”

“No, no. It’s good to see you. And I did offer,” he reminded.

The agent returned, thanking Danny for his patience, and gave CJ a nod, signalling the all clear. Danny stepped back allowing her to cross the threshold and enter his apartment. “Can I take your coat?”

She loosened the tied belt and shrugged it off, handing it to him to hang on one of the hooks by the door.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked, walking towards her.

“I’m not really sure. It’s…”

She took a steadying breath before filling him in on the events of the last 24 hours, sharing things left out by the news reports that she knew he’d appreciate or understand. She spoke in quick, succinct sentences. She didn't linger and she didn't embellish, a skill she’d honed and perfected during her years in the briefing room. When she was finished, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and shrugged. Danny studied her; she was exhausted, emotionally drained. He’d seen her like this before; after the shooting and during Zoey’s kidnapping. He hadn’t been able to offer her any comfort then; their jobs had prevented it. But things were different now.

"Come here." He reached for her hand to tug her closer and wrapped his arms around her. "Sounds like you had quite a day," he said quietly.

There was a part of her that almost wanted to cry at finally being in his arms, but she’d cried that much over the past twenty four hours, she wasn’t sure she had any tears left to shed. So instead, she burrowed closer to him, tucked her face against his neck and inhaled as her arms snaked around him.

"It's getting better now," she mumbled. The feel of his hand in her hair, fingers gently stroking her scalp, made her hum softly.

“Good.”

They remained like that for a few minutes, stood just inside his door holding each other. When they broke apart, Danny led her to the living area and gestured for her to sit on the sofa.

“Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Tea?”

She nodded at his half-empty glass of bourbon sat next to his laptop on the coffee table. “Any of that going spare?” she asked. After the last two days, she was in desperate need of a something stronger.

“Of course.”

She looked around the room as he poured the bourbon. His apartment was smaller than hers, but the open plan, studio layout made it look quite spacious. Her gaze was drawn to the in-built, floor to ceiling bookcase, bulging with an assortment of tomes. There, amongst the rows and rows of books and a selection of family photos, was his Pulitzer.

“This is a nice place,” she said as Danny passed her a glass and took a seat beside her on the sofa, angling his body to face her.

“Thanks. It’s not much, but I do miss it when I’m on the road.”

He loved his job but after weeks away, it was nice to come home to familiar surroundings and his own bed. And this time he was staying for a while.

“Have you had any further thoughts on what to do now that you’ve quit the Post?” CJ asked.

While they hadn’t seen each other since the night their date had been interrupted by the nuclear disaster at San Andreo, they’d exchanged messages. One of which had been him informing her that he’d made a decision about his future. He’d handed in his notice. Now, he had a week and a half left and then he was done.

“Nothing definitive, but there’s a couple of book deals that look promising.”

“That’s good.” She was glad he wasn’t turning away from writing completely; he had an incredible talent when it came to the written word.

“What about you? Any idea what you might be doing post-White House?

She shrugged. “I’ve had some offers, but they’re all the same. Stock options, corporate jets and all I have to do is turn up at the occasional board meeting.”

“So, nothing that’s really grabbed you then?”

She took a sip of her drink before answering. “Not so far. Is it so strange that I actually want to work for a living?”

“Well, after eight years in one of the most high-pressure jobs in the country–”

“I’ve only been Chief of Staff for a year and a half,” she interjected. “Being Press Secretary was a walk in the park in comparison…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, most of the time,” she amended. “Y’know when _certain people_ weren’t acting like a dog with a bone about a story.”

“What can I say, you don’t win a Pulitzer from the fourth row of the press room by letting things drop easily and my readers expected–”

CJ rolled her eyes. “A little bit more. Yes, I remember.” Danny had been the bane of her professional life at times, with his tenacity and ability to sniff out the stories that she’d rather keep off the front pages.

“Well they did. Anyway, as I was saying… After all that, a sane person might want an easier time of it.”

“Hey!”

Danny merely grinned.

“Although,” CJ continued, enjoying the ease with which they had returned to their teasing banter. “Maybe you’re right… I was crazy enough to agree to dinner with you, after all.”

“I’d argue that’s the sanest decision you’ve ever made.”

When his free hand reached to cover hers, CJ was suddenly hyper aware that, during the course of their conversation, they had shifted closer to each other. Her breath caught as she drowned in his deep blue eyes. She leaned in and Danny did the same. The bourbon on her breath mingled with the bourbon on his and her eyes fluttered closed expectantly.

Suddenly, the sound of something spilling onto the couch startled them back to reality. She looked down to realise she’d tipped her glass and her bourbon was now soaking into the brown fabric.

“Shit!” Flustered, she jumped up from the couch as Danny hurried to the kitchen to retrieve a cloth. “I’m so sorry!”

He waved away her apology as he blotted up the mess. “Nothin’ to be sorry about. It was my fault. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

As he moved to the kitchen to return the cloth, CJ wasn’t sure if he was talking about the spillage or their near kiss, but she hoped it was the former.

There had always been an inexplicable chemistry between them. And it hadn’t diminished over the past eight years. What they had, this bond that kept drawing them together, CJ didn't understand it, but she couldn’t deny it. 

She thought back to those early years in the White House, when she’d had to reject his advances because of the conflict of interest that came from their respective jobs. She’d tried to ignore what she felt for him but she couldn’t and, in the end, she’d stopped trying. But it wasn’t meant to be. A business dinner, several stolen kisses and one goldfish later, he was gone; neither of them prepared to sacrifice their professional ambitions to further their relationship. He’d had no problems with the potential conflict of interests, but she had. So, their brief romantic interlude had ended.

He’d returned a couple of years later, at Christmas. Dressed as Santa, he’d strolled boldly into the briefing room and, after presenting her with a beautifully ornate goldfish pin, had kissed her right there on the podium. Briefly, CJ had wondered if his return would signal a shift in their relationship, but it wasn’t to be. He was still a reporter, chasing a story. One that could have had potentially devastating consequences.

He’d left the White House again after that, maintaining only sporadic contact. Postcards, the odd ornament for Gail’s fishbowl and a beautiful bouquet of flowers when she was promoted to Chief of Staff were the only signs that he still thought of her. Until he called, out of the blue, a few weeks ago, asking her to dinner.

Their first dinner had been a disaster. She’d been late and a mix of stress and nervousness had caused her to act like a type-A, career woman, freak automaton. And the evening had only gone further downhill when Danny had mentioned his suspicions about the President’s son-in-law sleeping with the nanny. Thankfully, he hadn’t been deterred by her behaviour and their second dinner a few nights later had been much better. She’d felt as comfortable with him then as she used to.

When he’d reached across the table for her hand and all but proposed to her, she had been taken by surprise, unable to believe that he could still feel that way about her, after all these years and the way she’d treated him. In the days since, when she’d had a free moment, she’d thought a lot about what she would have said, had her pager not interrupted them.

She’d decided that she would have asked him to wait until after the inauguration. As she’d told him, she wanted to do her job, to suck every morsel of meat off the experience before it was over. Plus, while she may no longer be Press Secretary, there could still be a conflict.

The events of the past 48 hours had changed all that. Leo’s death had brought with it the stark realisation that life was too short. People could be here one minute and then gone the next, just like that. Nobody knew how many more goes they get round the sun. She was waiting for the time to be right, but she could be wasting all the time they had. There were only two months of the administration left and he was only going to be a reporter for another week. She was tired of waiting, of putting her life on hold.

CJ stood and followed Danny into the kitchen. He was standing at the sink, drying his hands but turned as she approached. She stopped in front of him and reached for the towel he was holding, taking it from him and throwing it onto the counter next to the sink.

“CJ?”

She exhaled quietly, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Danny had been right at the restaurant; incrementalism was not an option anymore but being forced into a heroic posture did feel funny.

“I…”

When the words didn’t come, CJ simply reached out, sliding her hand down his arm and interlacing their fingers. She felt the electricity, the anticipation crackle in the air between them. She stepped even closer, feeling reckless and alive, and closed the gap between them, pressing her lips against his. It had been too long since they’d last done this, but he tasted the same and it was intoxicating on her lips. She couldn’t resist deepening their kiss, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth in a heated and playful tug.

His arm wrapped around her and pulled her close, his touch like wildfire through the thin fabric of her clothes. She felt as though she was going to spontaneously combust.

Her fingers threaded through his soft curls and her lips parted, their tongues tangling, until he pulled back, gasping for breath. She turned, and bracing her palms on the countertop, hoisted herself up, pulling Danny to stand between her legs.

“CJ… What are you doing?”

“Giving you an exclusive,” she replied seductively.

Danny groaned, closing the gap between them, and ravaging her mouth with his. Their tongues danced as Danny pressed himself closer against her body, the black pumps CJ was wearing slipping off her feet as she wound her legs around him. When he finally pulled away, they were both dizzy with desire.

Swallowing hard and with trembling hands, she gripped Danny’s shirt and tugged it loose from his trousers, before unfastening his top button. Then the next. And the next. She continued until his shirt hung open, allowing her her first glimpse of his chest.

She ran her hands under the fabric, closing her eyes to savour the feel of his bare skin, her fingers toying with the sparse hair. His muscles flexed beneath her touch and a shiver ran through his body as she reached his shoulders.

“I need to touch you,” he growled. He mirrored her actions, wasting no time in untucking her shirt and sliding his warm hands against her naked flesh. He felt her breath escape her mouth in a release of approval and it made a heat build in his body in response.

A low moan escaped her throat as his hands brushed the sides of her breasts, and her head fell back exposing the graceful column of her neck. Danny’s lips found the extremely sensitive spot just below her earlobe and she shuddered deliciously as his tongue swept over it.

“You are beautiful.” His hot breath fanned over the slick flesh he’d just lavished with his tongue and goose bumps erupted over CJ’s arms in response.

His mouth started to travel, the collar of her shirt dampening with the moisture of his kisses. He cupped her lace covered breast, his thumbs ghosting over her nipples. CJ’s low and sensuous mewl of approval rang through the apartment as she tightened her legs around him.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and his hands reluctantly left her body so she could slip it down his arms and off completely. Once shirtless, his hands found the hem of hers and pulled it over her head. He groaned at the sight of her in crimson lace, blood rushing south of his waist. He resumed his assault on her neck and collar bone; this time, his lips free to continue the journey across her décolletage unencumbered by clothes.

“Maybe we should…” CJ had to swallow between words as she felt his lips graze the top of her breast, just above the edge of her bra. “… move this somewhere more… comfortable.” She glanced towards the back of the apartment, where she assumed his bedroom was.

Danny’s lust-fogged eyes roved over her and he bit his lip. “Are you sure?”

Her lips found his ear, her voice a seductive whisper. “Yes. I need this. I need you.”

He looked up at her, eyes smouldering, and helped her down off the counter, letting her slide slowly down his front. He could hardly believe this was happening.

He’d been enraptured since he first met her during the later stages of Bartlet’s initial campaign eight years ago and, no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t get over her. Some might question his sanity. Hell, sometimes he questioned his sanity. He remembered being taught in Sunday School that love was patient. That was an understatement. For him, it was waiting. It was an ache. It was hope.

But if one night was all CJ could offer him, then he would take it. He would give her tonight, and then would let the dice fall where they may for the future. It was what she needed from him.

He turned her and walked her backwards toward his bedroom, while his hands worked on the zipper on her skirt.

His tongue swept over her pulse point and she gasped. She dodged his continued attempts to tease her neck and so his hands moved up her sides again. They settled against her ribcage and his thumbs swept the undersides of her breasts through the lace covered silk cups of her bra. Their mouths met again, and CJ reached for his belt as they crossed the threshold into his room. He trailed hot kisses down her neck and chest as his hands swept up her back and caught the clasp of her bra.

“I don’t think you need this anymore.”

The clasp was easily dealt with and he followed the path of the strap down her left shoulder with his mouth. She gasped as her bra fell away and his lips grazed the bare **skin** of her breast, his tongue flicking out to tease the peak. She couldn’t catch her breath as the sensations overwhelmed her. All she could think, over and over, was, _‘I need you’_.

He backed her into the bed. Her knees buckled, but with his arm around her waist they sank slowly onto the mattress. Danny knelt over her, drew her hands over her head and folded them around the wooden slats of the headboard while his mouth trailed a path downward. His hands cupped her breasts, while his lips and tongue bathed a path between. She arched beneath him, and her legs were drawn impatiently along his thighs and around his hips. He groaned when her hips rolled, and she pressed against him. He would not be deterred though, and despite her impatient grunt, his lips closed around a nipple while his hand palmed her other breast. He took her ragged moan as a sign of approval and braced himself against the mattress as he rolled the tight bud between his lips.

A ragged sigh was wrought from her lips. She turned her head to the side, arched beneath him. “Danny!”

He drew away from her breasts, with some reluctance, and a sigh. He swept his hands down her sides instead and caught the edge of the matching crimson lace panties that still covered her. Danny leaned back and drew the material down her legs. It was tossed behind him, while he let his gaze wander back up the length of her body. She would probably never know just how beautiful she was to him.

He kissed a blazing path up her inner thigh, the hair of his beard grazing her skin deliciously and settled between her legs. His tongue lapped at her gently, causing her let out a wanton moan and writhe on the bed.

“Yes! Yes!”

His face rose briefly from between her legs, lips kinked to the side in a knowing smile, before resuming his ministrations, slipping two fingers inside her to add to her pleasure.

CJ’s grasp of the headboard tightened in a desperate attempt to anchor herself as another wave of ecstasy broke.

Danny lay his free arm across her stomach, trying to hold her steady.

“Don’t… stop…” she panted breathlessly.

He had no intention of stopping. It only took a couple more swipes of his tongue and a curl of his fingers. She shrieked his name and exploded in a series of tremors that rippled her body.

Danny kissed his way back up over her stomach and chest, settling the length of his body against hers. His head bent and captured her lips in a breathless kiss as her arms slid around his waist. She pushed at his boxers and together they pushed them down his legs and out of their way.

She moaned as her sex made contact with the undeniable evidence of his desire, and her hips rocked against him.

“Ohhh!...”

He nudged at her entrance and she moaned. She tilted her hips up for better access, and he slid inside, slowly but steadily until he was buried to the hilt,

Her body gripped him tightly, while her heat surrounded him. Once he sank completely home, they lay, still and trembling, while allowing their bodies to adjust to the new sensation. When she moved impatiently beneath him, he lifted his head. He braced himself on his elbows and cupped her face between his hands. He swept her hair back from her face, let his thumbs trace her cheekbones. Then, he lowered his head and drew her into a slow, languid kiss as he moved within her. It started slow, but with an ever-increasing tempo as passion burned through them. Her hands once again found purchase around the wooden slats of the headboard as she rolled her hips to meet each deep, deliberate thrust. The lazy caress of their lips became open mouth kisses and nipping teeth, until his thrusts were no longer deliberate, and her face turned into his neck, her moans muffled against his skin.

Her hands moved to his shoulders, gripping tightly, nails scouring. She trembled beneath him. Heat and arousal coiled at her centre, burned through her, and then his hand was sliding between them. Something which might have been his name filled the deep, keening cry that passed her lips as his fingers found her, teased her. Her back arched, and with a strangled cry, release swept through her, and the slick heat of her inner walls gripped him tightly in its wake, contracting wildly as she came apart beneath him. His hands moved to her hips, pressed her into the mattress beneath them and his rhythm was lost in the onslaught. Only a moment passed before he was joining her. Heat coiled and then broke, and he was left equally as spent, trembling where he lay atop her.

Another minute passed before he lifted his head, shifted his weight off her and gazed down at her flushed face. He nuzzled at her cheek, nosed her hair aside and let his lips slide playfully along the curve of her jaw.

Their hands did not remain idle long. His fingers were feather light as he stroked her hair back from her face, and then caressed the familiar lines. Their legs tangled together, and he drew her closer to him when she shivered in the coolness of the room. His lips brushed the tip of her nose, and a smile curved her lips in response. Her feet were stroking his legs, one of them rubbed the inside of his right foot, and the other slid from calf to ankle and back again. His thumb traced the curve of her ear.

They watched one another, as the heat and flush of arousal faded into a more languid, relaxed feeling. Soon, CJ thought, she would have the time to find a way to voice the emotion that was filling her, to focus on the future. For now, there was some comfort in the fact that she saw similar emotions reflected in his gaze. Her fingers brushed lightly against his jaw, and he turned his head to kiss them. Soon, she thought again, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give him something in the meantime.

She pushed herself up on an elbow and looked at him. “What you asked me the other week… at the restaurant… before everything went to hell in California…”

“Yeah…?”

“I still want to wait until after the inauguration before having any important conversations. Just so I can give them my full attention. But I’m revisiting my initial ideas about whether or not we can see each other in the meantime.”

He tilted his head. “Is that so?”

“If that’s okay…?”

“If it’s okay?” His eyes shone with amusement. “CJ, I’ve wanted to spend time with you for eight years, I’m hardly going to say no, am I?”

" _Danny…_ ”

The whisper of his name was barely audible, even in the quiet of the room, but the emotion in it tugged at his heart. She shifted closer to him, sliding her arm around him. For now, if this was the only way he could love her, then it’s what he would do. He wouldn’t pressure her into making any decisions. Not yet. She didn’t need the extra stress in her life.

She wasn’t ready to hear any further declarations or promises. But there, in the darkest hours of the night, as they lay snuggled together, he vowed that he would be there for her, he’d continue to wait for her, even at the expense of himself.

And he hoped that in two months, after the inauguration, she would be ready to talk about all the feelings, hopes and desires they had repressed for the last eight years. That they would try again. That this time, they would get it right.


End file.
